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<title>Your Carriage Awaits by Christmasrose66</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25939879">Your Carriage Awaits</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Christmasrose66/pseuds/Christmasrose66'>Christmasrose66</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dempsey and Makepeace</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:13:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>763</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25939879</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Christmasrose66/pseuds/Christmasrose66</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A little snippet inspired by a line in the episode "Extreme Prejudice"</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Your Carriage Awaits</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"I wouldn't ride with her if she was naked, on a Harley Davidson, with a rose in her teeth"</p><p>     Oh boy, that was an image, one he couldn't get out of his mind. Truthfully he'd never seen her naked, but he'd spent a lot of time looking at her and he was a trained detective. He was pretty sure he could estimate the contours of her figure, her height and weight. He'd had his arms around her waist, when they'd danced together, "undercover" of course. Harriet Makepeace wouldn't be caught dead dancing with Jim Dempsey, but undercover (or when she was drunk) it was a different story. That was what gave him this ridiculous false hope, that somewhere underneath that icy exterior, if he could just break through, she might just care about him. Oh, who was he kidding, getting sentimental over a dame! But, oh boy, would she look good on a Harley.</p><p>       "I wouldn't ride with her if she was naked, on a Harley Davidson, with a rose in her teeth"</p><p>    Why did he say that? Is that how he thought about her? How could she maintain a professional relationship with a man who had basically just confessed to picturing her naked? She sighed and rubbed her forehead, hunched over her desk, swamped by paperwork, and of course, he was nowhere in sight. There was a newspaper lying folded on "his" side of the desk. She noticed that it was the Evening Standard, not his usual fare, the New York Times. Maybe he did listen to her advice occasionally. An advert in the paper caught her attention, and she rolled her eyes, a new Harley Davidson dealership opening up, a big event with display riders, scheduled for that afternoon. Well, that explained where Dempsey was, didn't it!<br/>
She stretched, and rolled her shoulders. She needed to get away from her desk. Looking around, there was the usual steady hum of work, officers huddled around desks and the coffee pot. She made a decision, stood up and swung her jacket over her shoulder.<br/>
"Chas, I'm going out"  she called, as she walked towards the door.<br/>
"Where to?" he asked, curious rather than critical.<br/>
"Manor House Road" she pursed her lips, "rendezvous, um, got to dash" she could see the shadow of Spikings approaching the door of his office, and needed to get out before she came under his, more intense, scrutiny.<br/>
Moments later, Spikings stood in the doorway of the office, surveying his kingdom. There was an obvious empty desk, where his two most effective/troublesome detectives should have been sitting. He narrowed his eyes,<br/>
"Chas" his voice boomed in his chest, seemingly in a lower register than usual.<br/>
Chas was unflappable, "Yes Guv?"<br/>
"Where the hell are they? And why aren't I reading those reports right now?" Spikings asked<br/>
Chas remained tight lipped, figuring the questions were largely rhetorical. There was a lengthy pause, as the two men stared at each other, eventually Chas cracked, as they both knew he would.<br/>
"Harry mentioned Manor House Road, Guv"<br/>
"Oh, she did, did she" the words dripped heavy with sarcasm, from Spikings lips<br/>
"That's all I know, Guv" Chas was still bright and breezy. Whatever this particular issue was, he didn't need or want to know anything further about it, as he strongly suspected it was not case related. He was a trained detective too!</p><p>    A section of the road had been blocked off, and a large, boisterous crowd had gathered in the street. Many of them in leathers, but there were family groups too, small children running around. The event had the atmosphere of a fairground or carnival, something exciting and just a little bit dangerous. Harry scanned the crowd, looking for Dempsey. He had to be here somewhere. Damn him, she felt as if she was always chasing after him, trying to clean up the mess. Maybe this was work related, she mused, he could have been meeting a contact here. The crowd was surging forward, jostling her. Suddenly there were whoops and cheers, as riders performed wheelies down the stretch of open road in front of them. One of the bikes stopped at the kerb, close to her, and the rider removed his helmet, "Your carriage awaits" Dempsey gestured to the seat behind him, and proffered an additional helmet. She laughed, in spite of herself. What the hell! She swung her leg over the bike and gripped Dempsey's waist, her heart pounding in her chest. It had been a wild ride from the beginning, but she was equal to it.</p>
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